NATURE

WHEN THE STORM STOLE THE DAY

 

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The storm was over!

Full leaved branches of neem and asoka

wrenched off unceremoniously

lay orphaned ,forlorn, and cold,

over puddles of water.

Restless cars and bikes, on hold,

belched clouds of smoke.

Bill boards of  last election peeled off

damp faces of winners and losers (fates sealed?)

Rain-washed blue- canopied  metro station,

home -bound, restless bodies, tired faces,

dreams of hot meal and sleep.

Lost in itself, the brazen bougainvillea,

trailing over the  iron fence

dull and listless in the molten sun

braved the wild wind, rain and hail

and perked up with hope and desire

dreaming of another day!

The storm was over

Was the leftover day same as before?

Lost in shades of black and blue, and grey

battered and bruised, the hapless day

limped out of the tunnel of darkness.

Unkept promises, unreached destinations

Known fears, tragic conclusions- all

faded into stormy wilderness!

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